


Mandos and Taxes

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Death and Taxes, Exactly how do you tax a Silmaril?, Gen, Gil-Galad is willing to have more of the former if it gets rid of the latter, Humor, Mentioned Celebrimbor, Or at least his responsibility to deal with the latter, Second Age, Taxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Being the king, Gil-Galad doesn't have to pay taxes.This doesn't stop him from hating the necessity of dealing with them with a fierce, fiery passion.





	Mandos and Taxes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the Silmarillion.
> 
> Personally, I consider this a follow-up to "Because I Walked Away from Death," but you really shouldn't have to read that first to get the gist of what's going on. If I ever write a third part, I may turn this into a series.
> 
> This particular story was inspired by Hamelin-born's' prompt of Gil-Galad and Elrond, "Don't do the thing I'm telling you how to do," and humor.

Gil-Galad sat slumped down with his head on his desk, having decided that banging his head on said desk any further was likely to cause brain damage even in one of the Eldar. He straightened in a panic when a soft knock was followed immediately by the door opening only to slump back into his chair when he saw it was only Elrond.

“My king?” Elrond asked in some concern.

His king. Yes. 

“I know as king I can’t technically advise you to commit treason,” he began.

“Always a promising beginning.”

Gil-Galad ignored this. “But in these peaceful days, the guards really have become quite lax. I don’t know that anyone would notice a nice quiet little assassination. And if you did it right now, you might even get blood on all of these papers which means that you wouldn’t have to deal with them either,” he added with sudden inspiration. “Not that I’m advising it, of course.”

Elrond’s frown suggested that he found nothing in talk of losing further family members either appealing or funny.

Gil-Galad sighed. “Or you could just start stirring up a big stink about the succession,” he offered hopefully. “ _I_ know you’re ahead of me in the line, _you_ know it, half the court knows it by this point. I’d probably be far too busy with this mess to notice any fomenting suggestions for my abdication in favor of the rightful heir until it was too late to stop it.”

Now Elrond looked amused. “If by ‘ahead of you in the line of succession’ you mean ‘ever actually in it in the first place,’ than yes, we both know that, but I see no reason why we need to spread it around. Are the papers truly that bad?”

“It’s been ten years,” Gil-Galad reminded him. “In another month it’ll be tax season. Celebrimbor decided to send his accounting early, presumably so we don’t have to deal with the firestorm that happened _last_ tax season when they were late.”

Half the court had thought it was the first sign of open rebellion. The other half thought it was only the latest sign.

Elrond had thought it likely Celebrimbor had gotten caught up in a project and had quietly ridden out and straightened the matter out promptly. The lord of Eregion had gotten caught up in some project with Annatar and lost track of the time.

Elrond always got these things straightened out perfectly. Elrond would definitely be a good king, and certainly had a better claim to it than, “some dragon thought it would be hilarious to hypnotize a random elf into firmly believing that they were the next rightful king of the Noldor.”

Gil-Galad doubted the dragon had realized that by the time Gil-Galad had made it back to any sort of civilization to make this claim that a) there’d be a distinct lack of royalty about to execute him for this, b) that the people would be desperate enough to at least pretend to believe him, and c) that he’d be competent enough not to be immediately pulled from office.

Of course, someone had eventually offed said dragon, and all that pleasant, hazy certainty had vanished. 

He rather missed it.

“Nice, easy rebellion,” he said enticingly. “You could probably do it just with a whisper campaign. The Sindar would support you. _I’d_ support you. Not officially, of course, but, internally, I’d be rooting for you, Elrond.”

“If you’re that desperate, you could just abdicate,” Elrond pointed out.

Gil-Galad looked at him sourly. “Would you ever speak to me again if I did?”

Elrond considered. “Some think that in Arda Remade all wrongs will be forgiven.”

“That’s a no, then,” Gil-Galad said flatly. “Seeing as we don’t even know we’re going to be _in_ Arda Remade.”

Elrond smiled brilliantly. “I have faith. Failing total abdication, you could at least try delegation.”

Gil-Galad’s look turned immeasurably more hopeful. “Is that an offer to help with the taxes?”

“If it will prevent you from either flinging the crown at my head or fleeing to Aman, than yes.”

“Absolutely,” Gil-Galad said cheerfully. “You can start by helping me figure out why our dear cousin listed ‘one gemstone, white’ on the top of his assets list.”

Elrond went rather pale and immediately dug in his robes for what turned out to be a letter. “I haven’t read it yet, but maybe - yes, it’s addressed to me, but he asked me to tell you - “ There Elrond cut off before finally just handing the letter to Gil-Galad, who received it like it was a live snake.

After several minutes of long silence, he said, “Annatar’s Sauron, one of his uncles returns from presumed death, he gains one of those accursed Silmarils, and he sends _you_ a letter?”

“His postscript suggests he hoped I could find someway to explain it better,” Elrond offered hesitantly.

Gil-Galad buried his face in his hands.

Elrond patted his back consolingly. “At the very least, the problem has nothing to do with taxes.”


End file.
